


Exchange

by theboywhoscored



Series: Mezzanine [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Fingering, First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-14
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 04:41:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theboywhoscored/pseuds/theboywhoscored
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is angry at Sherlock for using him as a test subject, but he still shags him senseless like he promised that morning. Follow-up of "Mezzanine." Virgin!Sherlock, Patient!John. Set end-Hounds of Baskerville.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exchange

“Sherlock, I am still not happy with you for trying to drug me. Or locking me in that lab. I’m not your bloody test subject.” John barked as he walked back toward the B&B, slamming the door of the SUV.  
  
“John, I’m sorry. I had to...” Sherlock started, reaching one hand out to catch his shoulder.  
  
“Excuse me, what did you say? What was that first part? Hmmm?” John snapped, turning to face him.  
  
“I said...I’m sorry,” he sighed, his expression genuinely apologetic.  
  
“Oh Sherlock, that’s the best I’ll ever get out of you, so why don’t you shut up while you’re ahead?” John shouted in exasperation as he turned around again to open the door to the building.  
  
“John...”  
  
“I said ‘shut up,’ Sherlock!”  
  
The two men behind the counter looked at John and then at each other.  
  
John apologized quietly for yelling, a little embarrassed, and turned the corner toward their room. Sherlock gave them a tight-lipped smile and nod of acknowledgment.  
  
The shorter, red-haired man said softly to his partner, “Those two must’ve had a lover’s quarrel, they have.”  
  
“Pity, they’re an awful cute couple,” the other man replied, putting a hand on his mate’s shoulder before getting back to work.  
  
Sherlock followed John into the room and shut the door softly behind him. The blond man turned around sharply.  
  
“YOU OWE ME,” he said sternly, voice trembling. “GET OVER HERE. NOW.” He threw his jacket onto the bed and started unbuckling his belt. Sherlock pursed his lips and slowly started to take of his scarf and coat. John pulled  his jumper over his head and unbuttoned his oxford. Sherlock stood stiffly, clenching and unclenching his fists as he watched John undress.

  
“COME ON, SHERLOCK!” John barked as he stomped toward the lanky man and grabbed  
him by the jaw, pulling him in for a rough kiss. Sherlock stiffened, taken aback, then hesitantly parted his lips to let the other man’s tongue flick into his mouth. It felt wet and hot and strange to him, but he liked it. He hungrily returned the kiss as John pulled him down to straddle him as he sat on the bed.  
  
“Let me have a look at that hickey I gave you this morning,” he said, knotting his fingers in Sherlock’s curls and pulling his head back roughly to reveal the purple bruise on the otherwise alabaster skin of his neck. “Ahhhh, brilliant! That’s a mark to be proud of!” Sherlock looked at John from the corners of his eyes, anxious, his breath quickening.  He could feel John’s penis press against him as he sat on his lap. Feeling his hardness against him made Sherlock’s cock twitch in reaction.  
  
John kissed Sherlock violently as he unbuttoned his purple silk shirt, revealing his well-defined chest and abdomen. Sherlock pulled it off and let it fall to the floor, still keeping his mouth locked on John’s.  
  
“I’m sorry...I was so...angry...with you...I...accept...your apology.” John said quietly between kisses.  “You...don’t owe...me anything...hmmmmmmmpfh...we’ll make this....good...for you...don’t...worry....hnnnng...” He grabbed Sherlock by the hips and flipped him over onto the bed, his back now against the mattress and John’s knees between his legs. Sherlock looked at John like a concerned puppy and John couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh.  
  
“You look so afraid!” He moved closer and joined lips fiercely with Sherlock for a good thirty seconds, the pale man participating enthusiastically. “But you do seem to like kissing an awful lot. You’re getting good at it rather quickly!” John chuckled, beaming. “You’d never kissed anyone before, had you? Until me, just now?” Sherlock blushed and looked down with fluttery eyelashes and John knew the answer was no, no he had not.  
  
Sherlock looked at John’s bare chest properly, in the light, and he reached out his right hand to touch the star shaped scar on John’s left shoulder tenderly with his index and mid  
dle fingers. Sherlock shuddered softly as he felt the rough raised flesh and he and John locked gazes. John’s eyes were calm but intense, and Sherlock, for the first time, was able to maintain eye contact, however tentative.  
  
 _He’s calming down...he’s becoming more comfortable with being in a situation where he’s vulnerable.._.John thought. _This is good. This is very good. I don’t think anyone has ever seen him like this, like I saw him this morning. He doesn’t reveal his vulnerability to anyone.  He trusts me..._

  
John looked down as he awkwardly slid his jeans and shorts down to his knees, letting his stiff and heavy cock fall out. He looked back up at Sherlock’s pale face, whose eyes looked down at the other man’s flesh and then up to meet his gaze. He made the tiny little crooked smirk he always made when he was pleased with something John had done, and the small blond man laughed heartily at this fact.  “ I know that look. I know you.” He slid his pants over his ankles and threw them on the floor. “Now those pants look awfully tight on you, Sherlock. Would you like me to help you out of them?” John was grinning ear to ear and it was infectious. Sherlock bit down on his bottom lip and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, doctor, if you could I’d be quite thankful...”  
  
John unbuttoned and unzipped Sherlock’s pants and put his hands tentatively on the waistband, making sure to grip the band of his shorts as well. He nodded suggestively for Sherlock to lift his hips to let him pull them down and he did so. He was stiff as stone, curving gently upward toward his belly. _Oh god he’s lovely,_  John thought, giving his now nude partner the up and the down. He rubbed his hand up one of Sherlock’s long legs all the way to the crease of his inner thigh and back down again, admiring his creamy white skin, making the man shudder and moan softly at his touch, his cock twitching.  
  
John was breathing softly, his lips parted slightly, his eyes glazed. He admired his lover’s soft, pale body, rubbing his thighs and chest and abdomen with his palms. He was careful never to touch Sherlock’s penis, which was now flushed and aching, dripping precum, begging to be held.  
  
Sherlock watched John intently as he felt the delicate flesh and bones of his body. The feeling of foreign hands touching him was exquisite--and extremely arousing. Every time John’s hands slid along his inner thighs (which was tortuously often) he felt his cock get more and more uncomfortably hard. He never denied John the satisfaction of hearing his little moans of pleasure at his touch...he couldn’t if he had tried.  
  
John directed Sherlock to lean his back against the headboard and then pushed his long delicate legs foward until they were bent at the knees. Sherlock tensed at the sudden change in position and uncertainty of what was happening next, and his eyes showed a state of uneasiness that John immediately picked up on. _His eyes..._ John thought, snapping out of the doting fog he had been in for the past half hour or so... _he’s nervous, he’s so terribly_ nervous _...but he_ trusts _me..._  
  
John looked into Sherlock’s steely eyes: his lashes fluttered and his eyebrows were knit with concern. He was biting his bottom lip anxiously.  
  
“It’s okay Sherlock...I’ll take everything really slow. I won’t hurt you. I’ll never hurt you. I promise. Don’t worry about what’s happening. I’ll tell you before I do anything to you that might find unsettling, okay?” John’s eyes were kind and reassuring, and Sherlock relaxed a little.

  
John moved forward and kneeled between Sherlock’s buckled legs, keeping his eyes locked on Sherlock’s. Their erections were centimeters apart...Sherlock looked down at John’s thick cock and then into his eyes, then down again, and up. His breath started to quicken. John took Sherlock’s face in his hands and started to kiss him gently. Sherlock grabbed John by the small of the back and pulled him into him, their chests flush against each other and their cocks pressed together. Sherlock thrust his tongue into John’s mouth violently and started to grind his hips into his, his aching member finally getting the stimulation he had been craving for what had seemed like hours.  
  
John pulled back and observed Sherlock’s rapid breath and flushed cheeks. “Whoa there, calm down!” he chuckled. “I’ll get you off! Just be patient...it’s worth it, I promise.” He brushed a shock of curls that had plastered itself to Sherlock’s forehead to the side, out of his eyes. His usually pale body was flushed and pink and coated with sweat. His eyes were a little wild, but he was coming to his senses quickly. John felt a little guilty. Sherlock, as he had learned that morning, did not often get erections. And certainly he did not get prolonged erections that he was helpless to, well, take care of.  
  
“Do you want me to fuck you, Sherlock?” John asked the lanky man calmly, _cooly_ , holding his flushed face between his palms. Sherlock nodded furiously, pupils dilated to an almost ridiculous size.  
  
“J-j-j-john...” Sherlock stuttered breathily, grabbing for arm as he reached for his jacket on the floor to grab a small bottle of lubricant from the inside pocket. “Will....will you put me in your mouth again? Please? It felt so good...at least touch me...I’m aching...” His eyelids were heavy with desire as he whimpered his requests. “Of course I will, Sherlock. I’m not a bastard. I’ll take care of you.” He said the last sentence with a wink, parted Sherlock’s shaky knees, and dragged the flat of his tongue slowly up the underside of Sherlock’s cock before taking him all the way in his mouth. Sherlock let out a low, deep moan in response to the sudden sensation he was finally greeted with after such an agonizingly long time.  
  
John started laughing. “Now, I am nearly positive the owners of this place heard that moan, Sherlock. It’ll be impossible to convince them we’re not a couple now.”  
  
Sherlock looked at John longingly. “Well, are we?”  
  
“Oh fuck, Sherlock, I suppose we are.” John sighed with a little laugh. Sherlock smiled and looked relieved. “So shall I get on with it?”  
  
Sherlock nodded hesitantly.

  
John bobbed his head up and down on Sherlock’s pulsing cock for a few more strokes before stopping and wiping the extra saliva from his mouth with the back of his hand. “Satisfied for now?” he asked him. “I’ll manage...” he sighed, flopping his head back onto the pillow and sighing loudly. He had enjoyed watching John work his mouth on him.  
  
“Okay, Sherlock, now you really need to try to relax as much as possible, okay? I’m going to be really slow about this and I promise I’ll try my best not to hurt you. Just tell me if I’m doing something you don’t like and I’ll stop, okay? I’m going to start putting my fingers in you...have you ever done this to yourself?”  
  
“No. Never.” John could hear the anxiety in his voice. He kissed Sherlock’s gorgeous hip bones...left, right. “Just try to relax, okay? This should feel good.”  
  
John took a liberal amount of lubricant from the bottle and slicked up one of his fingers. “You okay, Sherlock?” he asked, sliding his finger back between his legs, pressing it gently against his right ring of muscle. He rubbed it gently with his finger pad, making little circles, pressing a little harder each time.  
  
“Nnnnnnnnnnng...”  
  
“You okay?”  
  
“Unnnng...yeah, I’m okay...”  
  
“I’m going to press my finger in, are you ready?”  
  
“Mmmmhmmmm....”  
  
John applied just enough pressure to breach his hole. Sherlock gasped.  
  
John pressed his finger in deeper and felt for the bump of his prostate gland and started to gently stroke it.  
  
“Unnnnnnnnnnnnnng!” .  
  
“You still doing okay, Sherlock?  
  
“Fucking fantastic.....” he moaned.  
  
John grinned. “Are you ready for another finger?”

  
“Uhhhh huhhhhh.”  
  
John squirted more lube onto his fingers and slowly slipped another finger into Sherlock. He took his other hand and idly stroked his own cock. He buried his face in Sherlock’s lap and gently took each of his testicles into his mouth in turn before running his tongue along the underside of his penis in a long, broad stroke, all the while stroking Sherlock’s prostate and gently slipping in a third finger.  
  
Sherlock was moaning hysterically at the stimulation--the _over_ stimulation--and was bucking his hips into John’s face and knotting his fingers into his own dark curls and pulling with one hand as he tried to grip John’s short hair with his other hand.  
  
John knew Sherlock wouldn’t last much longer if her kept it up, and the state Sherlock’s behavior was leaving him in, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer either. He pulled his fingers out of Sherlock’s arse and took his head out of his lap, only to be met by whimpering protests of, “No, don’t stop! Please don’t stop!” coming from his lover’s mouth.    
  
“Oh Sherlock, I hope you’re ready, because I’m about to fuck you senseless,” John groaned, no longer thinking about anything other than feeling Sherlock’s insides. His mind had gone foggy from desire. He’d been so hard for so long and now he had to nurse his need. He took his cock in hand and pressed the swollen tip against Sherlock’s hole and in one strong thrust he was in that beautiful, wonderful, perfect man.  
  
Sherlock yelped as he was breached and then began to relax and feel the fullness of John inside him as he was repeatedly rammed by his lover as he hooked his legs over his shoulders. John’s thrusts started out slow and deliberate but became faster and more erratic and mindless as he forced his tongue into Sherlock’s mouth.  
  
Sherlock wrapped a hand around his cock and stroked himself feverishly as John repeatedly struck his prostate with each thrust. Tears were welling up in his eyes as he began to shout John’s name over and over.  
  
“John! _John!_ I’m going to come! Oh god, _I’m going to come!_ Don’t stop! _Please! Don’t stop!”_  
  
He made a few more desperate strokes and then came all over his abdomen, convulsing as he moaned John’s name. John felt all of Sherlock’s muscles contract and he was suddenly over the edge, too, mind a complete fog. He moaned a ragged, “Sherrrrrrlockkk!” and then collapsed weakly into his lover’s arms.

  
“I’ve made an awful mess...” Sherlock started. John put a finger to his lips and hushed him.  
  
“I think it’s sexy,” he murmured into Sherlock’s neck, nipping his purple mark. “You felt bloody amazing, Sherlock.”  
  
Sherlock blushed, but his face was so flushed from the sex that his color didn’t change much.  
  
“I quite like this whole sex thing, well, with you, John. Can we do it some more when we get back to 221B?”  
  
John looked Sherlock straight in the face. “Abso-bloody-lutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love getting fic prompts. 
> 
> If you have any, don't hesitate to contact me at positively.johnlocked@gmail.com!
> 
> Comments and reviews are great, too!


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